


Take One

by fhartz91



Series: Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2020 [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: Actor Blaine Anderson, Actor Kurt Hummel, Alternate Universe, Assume they didn't meet at Dalton, Crushes, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Future Fic, Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2020, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, and didn't attend high school together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: Embroiled in the aftermath of two very messy break-ups, Kurt and Blaine are preparing to film their first love scene together. But how do you pretend to be in love when your love life is falling apart?It probably doesn't hurt to be in love with your co-star then.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Series: Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039725
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50
Collections: Klaine Advent 2020





	Take One

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'grey'.

“Ooo, I get a limo this time,” Kurt mumbles, not nearly as impressed as he’s pretending to be. But he needs to keep up appearances. Even though it’s the literal buttcrack of dawn, he’s not alone. There are about thirty asshats, armed with cameras, camped out on his doorstep, climbing over each other to snap a candid of him for the gossip sites. A photo of him emerging from his townhouse fresh-faced and ready for another day on set will fetch an easy couple hundred.

But if he looks like he rolled out of bed, drank a bottle of whiskey for breakfast, then fell down a flight of stairs, landing face-first onto a mountain of cocaine - those pictures would fetch considerably more.

That’s what he gets for going through a horrendous break-up while having the nerve to be rich and famous.

Despite how he feels about his life at this moment, he went for the former, not the latter. He would never touch hard drugs, not for any reason, and he can't justify looking less than his best. 

Like a good friend once told him - never let them see you sweat.

“Kurt! Kurt Hummel! Over here!” the pariahs start calling, some of them whistling for his attention like he’s a dog. “Hummel! Hey, Hummel!”

_ Hummel. _

That’s the one that gets him, burrows into the roots of his teeth and makes his whole head pulsate. It keeps his feet moving when he might have stopped to exchange a polite hello. Who talks to people like that? When did it become acceptable to bellow out someone’s last name as a means of getting their attention? Is it too much to ask for the respect of at least shoving a ‘Mr.’ in front of it? Have these glorified stalkers forgotten that if it weren’t for him and stars like him the only jobs they could get would be snapping photos of families for minimum wage at Six Flags?

Ugh. 

Too much thinking too early in the morning.

He could write an essay on how much he loathes pap culture, but today, Kurt can’t be bothered caring.

He slaps on a smile and waves, sliding his glasses down his nose only far enough so they can’t see how red his eyes are from crying.

“Oh, hello! I didn’t see you all here! It’s so nice of you to greet me at 5:30 on this fine winter morning! Oh, careful there. You spilled your coffee. And I think you just kicked that poor young man in the face.”

Kurt greets his guests this way every morning, killing them with kindness, as subtle an  _ eff you _ as he can come up with when his brain cells have yet to kick in for the day.

Coffee. He needs coffee. About a gallon-and-a-half of it.

Kurt glides through the crowd, an angelfish among sharks, and comes out unscathed.

A man with dark hair and olive skin, wearing a fitted, black uniform tailored to within an inch of its life, opens the car door for Kurt as he approaches.

"Good morning, Mr. Hummel."

“Good morning, Harold. It's nice to see you.” Kurt slides into the car, thankful when the chauffeur shuts the door. He sinks into the leather seat and tosses his sunglasses aside. “God!" he moans, burying his face in his hands. "I don't want to do this! I want to stay home and eat ice cream! I don’t want to kiss anyone today!”

Blaine, who had been waiting quietly and wearing a sympathetic smile, frowns. “Gee. Thanks.”

Kurt's head snaps up, his face splotchy and red in seconds. “Blaine! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were …! That’s not what I meant!" He takes a deep breath in, lets it out slowly. "It's not you. I just don’t feel particularly romantic today.”

“It’s okay. I know what you mean. I feel the same way.”

Kurt squares Blaine with a stern look. “Gee. Thanks.”

Blaine ducks his eyes, his cheeks turning pink as he pours Kurt a glass of champagne. There’s always champagne, no matter what vehicle the studio sends to pick them up. But Kurt and Blaine never avail themselves to it.

_ Today, however,  _ Kurt thinks as he accepts the flute Blaine offers and takes a sip,  _ is an exception. _

“I didn’t know Harold was picking you up first,” Kurt says, starting small talk to ease the tension. Kurt and Blaine don’t usually have trouble making small talk.

But, again, today is an exception.

“Well ...” Blaine clears his throat, seems embarrassed “... I was just … you know … a few blocks down the way.”

Kurt sits up further, leans forward with interest. “So you did it. You moved out.”

“Yup,” Blaine replies quietly. “I couldn’t … I just couldn’t stay. Not after …” He stops and sniffles, turning his head to hide eyes that must be as red as Kurt’s. Kurt doesn’t know.

He only ever notices how striking they are.

Kurt rests a comforting hand on Blaine’s knee. “I know.” 

“Yeah,” Blaine says with a slightly bitter laugh. “So does the whole world. In fact, the photogs knew I was leaving before I knew. You should have seen it. I could barely get past them.”

Kurt pulls a box of tissues out of the side panel and offers one to Blaine. “They’re bottom feeders. Try to ignore them.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know,” Kurt repeats, feeling exceptionally useless. He’s in the exact same boat, but his heart hurts more for Blaine.

Blaine doesn’t deserve what he's going through. He doesn’t deserve such a public break-up.

He doesn’t deserve having his name drug all over social media by an emotionally manipulative bastard.

Kurt gazes out the window at the sky above. The forecast said it would be clear and sunny today, but it’s cloudy and grey. It matches Kurt's mood. Everything is cloudy and grey.

Well, maybe not everything.

The champagne isn’t. It’s cool and refreshing, and the bubbles make his tongue tingle.

That helps.

And Blaine helps, too.

Even gloomy, melancholy Blaine helps.

Just being in Blaine's presence helps.

“Living in the public eye isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh?” Blaine asks, though it sounds as much like a statement to himself as a question for Kurt.

“Not on days like today. But that’s the trade-off for being a star, I guess.” 

“Would you ever give it up?” Blaine takes a sip so slight it doesn’t lower the level of the liquid in his glass.

“I can’t say I would. You?”

“Nah. Acting has given me so many opportunities I could never have dreamed of. And all the great people I've met? I mean, this is what? The fifth film we’ve starred in together?”

“It is." 

Blaine chuckles, shakes his head. "Some of them have been real winners."

"I know! The roles you get offered when you're just starting out are criminal! Let’s see, we’ve been rogue enemy agents from different factions …”

“High school frenemies …”

“Alien co-conspirators …”

“Jealous rivals …”

“And now … lovers.”

“Yes,” Blaine says bashfully. “And today …”

Kurt smiles. “We get together for the first time.”

Hearing Kurt say it makes Blaine’s heart race, his pulse thrumming so fast it disappears.

The day Blaine found out he’d gotten the role of Kurt’s love interest and not the ‘jealous ex’ (the role his agent originally pitched him for since they play adversaries so well) was a dream come true. The studio felt the two of them could take their insane sexual tension (the studio's words, not Blaine's, although he doesn't disagree) and use it to fuel the plot of their latest 'friends-to-lovers' rom-com.

Blaine has always wanted to be a leading man. Deep down, he prayed that his first time, he'd play opposite Kurt. Now that it has finally happened, the role of his dreams comes with the greatest perk in the universe - an intimate moment with Kurt.

In front of about three dozen crew members, but still. 

It's Blaine's chance to indulge his crush, which he plans to savor since it may not come around again. 

Not in the way Blaine wants.

As friendly as Kurt is to him, as flirty as he can be, Blaine doesn't know for sure whether Kurt shares his feelings.

“If you don't mind my asking, when did he tell you?” Blaine asks.

“He didn’t." Kurt snorts humorlessly. "I woke up, and he was gone. I thought he had left for work. He had a table reading at six that morning, so I wasn’t immediately suspicious. Not until I started noticing important things were missing - clothes, toiletries, his contact lenses, his laptop …” 

"Did he tell you why he was leaving?"

Kurt chews his lower lip at the question he'd known was coming ... the answer he's debating whether or not to give. "Eventually." He glances up at Blaine, flashes a sly grin, and decides to go for broke. “He left because he thought I was falling in love with my co-star.”

"Really?" And just like that, Blaine Anderson dies, his heart shrinking into nothing and blowing away on the wind. "W-which one?" he asks, solely for conversation's sake.

This time, when Kurt snorts, clamping a hand over his mouth to keep from spraying champagne all over the interior of the limo, it's genuine. " _ You _ , you gumball!"

"Oh.  _ Oh _ !" Blaine’s expression of shock is so endearing, Kurt can’t look at it too long. There's a glow about him. It's like staring into the sun. “That's ... that’s funny. My ex broke up with me for the same reason. Because of ... you. At least, that's the excuse he gave on Twitter ... and Instagram ... and Facebook. There were other things. Other men, too.” Blaine's glow dims as he talks about his ex. Their relationship, and separation, weren’t as civil as Kurt’s. In reality, trouble had been brewing behind the scenes for a while. 

He’s glad they finally went their separate ways. 

But it stings just the same, finding out that someone you once loved, who you thought loved you back, was using you for clout. 

And in that, Blaine's ex was a better actor than Blaine ever was.

"That  _ is _ funny. Not funny ha-ha. Just ... funny. Who would have thunk?" Kurt goes back to his glass of champagne, keeping an eye on Blaine above the rim.

Blaine glances out the window as the limo slows, approaching the gates to the studio lot. Kurt doesn't follow Blaine's gaze, but he doesn't need to. 

He knows what Blaine sees by the way his face falls.

Blaine had hoped they could slip in quietly, but there's already a mob three feet deep waiting for them. The photographers and fans won't be able to see a thing through the car's windows. The tint on them is darker than dark. Still, the whole lot will be on high alert with them here. 

Inevitably, a handful will slip in. 

They may even find their way on set.

Blaine doesn't have the energy to deal with that.

Not today.

“How are we going to get through it?" Blaine asks. "Filming this scene? I mean, the timing is ... uncanny, to say the least.”

“Think of it this way …” Kurt slides across to Blaine’s side, sits as close as they're both comfortable with. Crooking a finger beneath his chin, Kurt draws Blaine's attention away from the gathering crowd and over to his eyes instead “… we get to spend the entire afternoon making each other feel better. That's how we're going to get through this. Agreed?”

Blaine's eyes lower, flicker to Kurt's lips unintentionally. When they travel back up, he notices Kurt's eyes do the same. He swallows hard. At this distance from Kurt, from his mouth, Blaine only has the wherewithal to say one word. He makes it count. "Agreed."


End file.
